Page 49 of A Helpin g Hand for the Village Nurse

‘Yeah,’ Chloe said with the briefest, most perfunctory smile. ‘Hi, Ottilie. So what’s in the box?’

‘Hopefully stuff you can make use of,’ Ottilie said.

At this, Chloe seemed more interested. She put down her phone and got up to look inside the box.

As far as Ottilie was aware, her pregnancy was about four months along, but you’d never know to look at her. Like her mum, she was petite – perhaps an inch or so taller but not much – and unless you knew what to look for, her bump didn’t show much at all. In fact, she looked to be still wearing her own pre-pregnancy jeans – the button undone at the waist where there was a little swelling, but other than that, pretty much fitting as they would always have done.

Her gaze went back to the plate of uneaten food – there looked to be a lot left. Of course, she couldn’t know how much had been put out for her in the first place, but still…

Ottilie’s gaze went briefly to the kitchen. It was tidy and modern, with glossy fitted cupboards and patterned blinds at the window – far more contemporary than the outside of the cottage had suggested she’d find inside. The walls were painted biscuit with a row of mint-green tiles along the worktops.

As Stacey cleared away her plate, Chloe dug a hand into the box and pulled out a teething ring. She looked unimpressed.

‘Don’t worry,’ Ottilie said. ‘All those sorts of things can be disinfected and sterilised and will be perfectly safe to use.’

‘And beggars can’t be choosers,’ Stacey added.

‘I can afford a plastic rattle,’ Chloe fired back. ‘I’m not that broke.’

‘It’s a teething ring,’ Stacey began but then let out a sigh. She turned to Ottilie. ‘Can I get you a drink?’

‘Oh, I didn’t want to disturb your evening. I only came by because?—’

‘It’s the least we can do since you brought us all this stuff,’ Stacey said.

Ottilie smiled. ‘That’d be nice. Actually’ – she glanced at Chloe then back at Stacey – ‘if you have time, I’d like to pick your brains.’

‘Well,’ Stacey said, brushing crumbs from a chair and indicating to Ottilie that she could sit, ‘there’s not much else going on.’

‘Never is,’ Chloe added.

Stacey ignored her daughter’s jibe. ‘What would you like to drink?’ she asked Ottilie. ‘I’ve got tea, coffee, hot chocolate…I think. Or maybe something stronger? I could crack open a nice bottle of white I’ve had in for a while and nobody to share it with.’

‘I’ll have whatever you’re having.’ Ottilie took the seat Stacey had wiped over for her.

‘Right then.’ Stacey went to the fridge. ‘Wine it is!’

‘I’ll have a glass,’ Chloe called over.

Stacey spun to face her with a deep frown.

‘Kidding,’ Chloe said. ‘Obviously. I’ll go upstairs and get out of your way.’

‘No, stay,’ Ottilie said. ‘It’s about the mum and baby group I want to restart, so I really need your opinion more than anyone’s.’

‘I’m not a mum.’

‘But you will be soon, and I hope you’ll use the group when you are.’

Chloe pursed her lips slightly. ‘I don’t think sitting in a church hall watching a load of babies drool and pinch each other is really my scene. Sorry.’

‘You don’t think it would be beneficial at all?’ Ottilie asked.

‘I don’t know, maybe for some, just not me. For a start, I won’t have anything in common with any of the other women.’

‘Of course you will,’ Stacey said. ‘You’re all local and will all have young kids.’

‘Wow,’ Chloe said caustically. ‘Why didn’t I think of all that? Obviously, we’ll all be friends for life.’

---